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  • A Gala of possibilities.

    Chapter by azn8573 · 19 Dec 2025
  • Philip and Jack get some inspiration from their host's memories and decide to take advantage of their new status as a power couple.
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  • For a long moment, the only sounds in the perfumed closet were their ragged breaths—Karen’s husky pants and Sarah’s higher, broken sighs. The air was thick with the scent of sex, expensive perfume, and stunned realization.

    Jack was the first to speak, his voice in Sarah’s body still shaky. “Holy. Shit.” He looked down at where they were still joined, then back up at Philip, his expression a whirlwind of awe and residual shock. “That was… I have no words.”

    Philip slowly withdrew the toy, a slick sound punctuating the motion. He sat back on his heels, Karen’s body thrumming with exhausted, satiated heat. The frantic, revenge-fueled energy was gone, replaced by a profound, deepening weirdness. He had just fucked his best friend with a dildo. While they were both women. Older women. He dropped the toy onto the velvet as if it had burned him.

    “We are in so far over our heads,” Philip muttered, running a trembling hand through Karen’s perfect blonde waves.

    But as the physical aftershocks faded, something else began to surface. A ripple of knowledge that wasn’t his own. Flashes of a calendar, a guest list, whispered conversations over champagne. Karen’s memories, or at least the recent, pressing ones, seeped into the corners of his mind like ink spreading in water.

    “The gala,” Philip said, his eyes going distant. “The Crestwood Hotel. Black tie. It’s for the pediatric wing.”

    Jack blinked, then his own face—Sarah’s face—took on a similar faraway look. “Right. The after-party. The Sapphire Suite. Private. Invitation only.” A slow, wicked grin spread across features that were not his own. “Oh, man. Karen was planning on networking there. And Sarah… Sarah knows some of the VIPs are… open to persuasion. The kind that involves less talking and more… well.”

    The implications hung in the air between them. The terror of their situation didn’t vanish, but it was suddenly alloyed with a giddy, reckless possibility. They were no longer just two frat guys trapped in a bizarre predicament. They were two stunning, connected, wealthy women with an all-access pass to an evening of unparalleled hedonism.

    “We have to go,” Jack said, his voice firming with new purpose. He stood up, wincing slightly as he pulled Sarah’s trousers back into place, fastening them with a deftness that came from the body’s muscle memory. “Think about it, Phil. …
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